Changes
by RRfan4life
Summary: Ross's reaction to Rachel leaving for Paris, before the goingaway party. [one shot]


Change  
By: Caity

**A/N: **Hey guys. Just a quick apology for "Something Like Love" taking forever... I was SO out of writing mood for a while, and then ffnet was also not working for me, but whatever. I just got back in the groove of things (writing this helped a lot) so I should have an update on that soon.

But anyways, this little fic is a strange one, I'm not gonna lie. I was in a REALLY dark, bad mood when I wrote it. It's _incredibly _stream-of-conciousness (in case you dont know what that means, its just like random thoughts as they would come to the character). It's basically Ross's thoughts sometime inbetween TOW Estelle Dies and TOW Rachel's Going Away Party. Probably right after TOW Estelle Dies, actually. But yeah. Its weird but I hope you guys still like it lol

* * *

I've never hugged her that tight before. I don't think I've ever hugged anyone that tight before. It's so strange, to simultaneously never want to let someone go, yet at the same time, knowing that it's the one way to make that person truly happy.

Or so you think.

I've known Rachel for forever, and cared about her a day longer. For the past ten years, she's been one of the biggest parts of my life. Whether it was as my best friend, my girlfriend, or the mother of my child. We've seen more make-ups and break-ups, more coming togethers and ripping aparts, more laughter and more screaming than anyone _I_ know, at least. It's been a crazy roller coaster ride.

I can't imagine saying goodbye to it all.

People always wonder how we deal with each other. We can be so intimate one minute, at each other's throats the next, and acting like nothing happened right after. But you can't explain something like Rachel and I to an innocent bystander. From the outside looking in, it's probably impossible to understand. But looking out from the inside... you just can't put words to it. We're one big walking conundrum; a contradiction in human form.

I can still remember our first kiss. It's the perfect example of how we make no sense; the beginning of the craziness that is (or was) our relationship. One moment, we're screaming at each other. The next moment suddenly becomes the first domino falling in a chain reaction of the most intense relationship with a person I've ever experienced.

We went out, we broke up. We tried again, it didn't work. We drunkenly got married, we awkwardly got a divorce. We laughed, we cried, we screamed, we smiled, and we somehow had a baby girl amidst all of this. We lived together, we lived apart, we spoke, we avoided each other, we comforted each other. We've been on, we've been off.

And all this time, I've subconciously been waiting for everything to work out. I don't know if I've really realized this until I heard those few words.

"The job is in Paris."

Truth be told, I've probably been waiting for things to work out with Rachel since I was fifteen years old. I waited when she reentered my life ten years ago, I waited after all the break-ups and disagreements. There have been so many chances where it almost seemed like, somehow, we'd gotten on the same page. Especially when Emma was born . . . why do we always complicate things between each other?

It's always the same thing. We can't "go down that road", we can't "mess this up", we can't . . . there's a lot of things we've said we can't do. But its always been so hard to accept any of it. Although, I guess there's nothing else we can do now.

She's really going to Paris. It's so bizarre to think about . . . Rachel in another _country_. She said it would make her happy. I said that if she was happy, I was happy, too. That may be one of my biggest lies.

Of course I'm not happy. Whether I've admitted it or not, I've always had feelings for Rachel. I've always hoped things would work between us. I've always wished we would both just get over ourselves, admit out faults, and move on . . . together. God knows moving on apart _still_ isn't working, and it's been seven years since we've been an official couple.

Then again, seeing her every day makes it seem that much more plausable. She was always here incase either of us got to the point where we would cave in. It's never really happened, not fully, but it's always seemed a possibility.

If she's really leaving, how often am I going to see her? Once a month? Of course, there will have to be a lot of trips because of Emma. But it won't be the same. My daughter won't be a short walk away, and my best friend isn't going to be there, just in case.

This is going to change so many things. Monica and Chandler are already leaving their apartment, the one place that held witness to the six of us growing up together. That alone is like saying goodbye to a person. But, even if the five of us remaining still hung out together, would it be the same? It would always feel like this big, gaping hole where Rachel should be.

Nothing's _ever_ going to be the same.

There have been so many instances where I've thought that regarding her. After our first kiss, we knew our feelings were undeniable. After we got together, we thought that it would be the last relationship either of us would ever have. After we broke up, it became evident that we weren't yet strong enough to overcome everything. God, other than hearing about Paris, hearing her cry and say "everything's changed forever" have to be one of the most painful moments I've ever had the displeasure of bearing. Especially coming from that mouth. Especially when _I_ was the cause.

After Emma, I thought about things changing forever . . . but in a _good_ way. Rachel's face was once again snugly present in my mental image of the perfect family, and I couldn't wait to see what Emma would look like as she climbed onto our bed and we all read the paper together. But, just like so many other times, the mental photograph was ripped away before it could develop. She said she would have said yes to anyone that proposed to her at that time; that it wasn't specific to Joey. But I didn't want to be "just anyone" to her. I hope to God that I never am.

And, considering what happened with her and Joey, maybe I was a little right to worry.

Although nothing ever happened with that. She said something about them being too good of friends. Is she closer friends with Joey than me? Because I could never really see that as being a problem. Shouldn't friendship play into a relationship? I always admired that when I look back on our year together. Above every thing, we were _friends_. We cared about each other enough to be friends even after a couple of painful break-ups and nasty arguments.

We always ended up still friends.

I love having her as one of my best friends. But sometimes, I still feel like something's missing. Our relationship is still lacking something. I wonder if, maybe, we'd find out anything if we just talked. What if something is hidden away, lost behind words that never quite come out?

Of course, I guess it's too late to find that out. She leaves in a week.

Why did I tell her to go? Why could I _still_ not say anything?

Why isn't _she _saying anything?

Maybe she doesn't wonder about this stuff anymore. Maybe she's already moved past hoping our relationship could once again develop to where we used to be. Or maybe she never even hoped that. Who knows? We don't say a damn thing that's on our minds, anymore. Not regarding us. We watch the other date, care for others, and in her case, marry someone else. Yet we just stay silent.

The silence is killing me.

Though I still can't say anything. I want her to be happy . . . I really do. But sometimes, I wonder why _I _couldn't make her happy. I know _she'd_ make _me_ happy. Man, I was so fine with where we were before I was faced with her leaving . . . or maybe this has just brought it all up to the surface.

Do I still love... no. No, I'm not going to use the L word. I just can't. It's just going to make it that much harder.

But I think I still do.

How the hell am I going to deal with this?

How is she dealing with it?

Does she even care?

Cause I know, if she's feeling half of what I'm feeling, she must be having one hell of a time too. How come I can't see it? I wonder if she can see it in me.

God, and now I'm crying. This is ridiculous. I should just go tell her what I'm feeling. But what am I feeling, exactly? I don't even know what I'd say. All I know is that I don't want her to leave. I want her to stay.

What if she stayed and nothing happened? What if we really have run out of chances?

That would be terrible. I would _never_ want to know nothing could happen again. She _did_ say we were "never off the table" the other day . . . of course, she meant sex between us. Not that it's ever really just "sex" . . . did that really mean something? Maybe she does still care about me. And yet she's really going.

I haven't figured out anything new. I'm still confused, we're still contradicting outselves, and we still make no sense.

We're never going to make sense. And, you know what? . . . that's okay. We never have, and oddly enough, its comforting. The one familiar thing about us has been the lack of anything logical. We don't make sense.

And neither does this.

Once the time comes, saying goodbye . . . it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

I'm a little scared.


End file.
